


Memories Growing

by gayshitiguess



Series: the winds, that are footless, / waist-deep in history [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon molly death, I knoooow, commission, i really love this one, its saaaad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 15:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19428364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayshitiguess/pseuds/gayshitiguess
Summary: The strange tree stood still under the stormy sky, and so Astrid sought shelter under its branches.





	Memories Growing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maggie_of_the_Fae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggie_of_the_Fae/gifts).



> This piece was commissioned by my lovely friend mer, so enjoy my dear!! Thank you!!! Also, it’s kind of in tandem with my piece Rings on Rings, so give that one a read too!! If you’re interested in commissioning a fic, you can message me on tumblr at gayshitiguess or email be at homohexual@gmaul.com

The strange tree stood still under the stormy sky, and so Astrid sought shelter under its branches. No rain penetrated its thick coat of shimmering, unnervingly purple leaves. She shook out her coat and checked that her books were dry before she camped down for the night. 

She wished that Eodwulf were there. Astrid always felt a bit safer with him beside her. Maybe that was because he was a much bigger target, but she liked to tell herself it was for much more sentimental reasons. It hardly mattered. She’d received the letter, she’d been tasked with following up on it, Wulf had other things to do. Not a problem. That’s what she had insisted. It wasn’t a problem at all. 

Following the trail of the lawyer’s firm was as fruitless as she had predicted. A fake agency. The name Caleb Widogast meant nothing to her, but a school friend… well, it rung some bells. She had exactly two school friends and they weren’t referring to Eodwulf. It had… implications. Ones she had trusted were secure in a tiny assylum and didn’t like to think about. She often did anyway. 

She’d only gone to see him once. A year or so after the fact. He looked so pathetic. Skinny, pale, hair long and stringy. His eyes… they were always such a bright blue, such vibrant things, always alive, indicative of what was running through his head. She was smart. She knew she was smart, but Bren was cut from a different cloth. There were always so many threads of thought going through his head at once. She could keep up, of course she could, but it wasn’t just intelligence with him. It was instinct, emotion, a creativity to him. She’d seen him use that creativity to build complicated changes to the universe and she’d seen him use it to tear people apart and all of it beautiful. 

The Bren sitting in that cell with his knees drawn to his chest… that Bren was empty. He was nothing like the boy she had known. His eyes were vacant and there wasn’t a thought in his head. 

So she didn’t go to see if Bren was still in the asylum. Ikathon would have told her. If not when he had escaped, then surely when she had gone looking after such a strange note. She was scared of what she would find if she looked into that cell again. Scared of what would find her. 

The firm was fake but at least one of the names wasn’t. Lavorre, that was something she had heard plenty of time. The Ruby of Sea was popular among the high and mighty in the Assembly. They liked to tout her like a jewel they’d bought. Astrid didn’t appreciate that, but she wasn’t going to lose her life over a moral issue. It might have set her teeth on edge, but it had also given her the name. Lavorre. Why the hell The Ruby of the Sea had sent her a note, she couldn’t reason, so it was much more likely that it was someone using a familiar name as an alias. Like signing a love note Bertrand Dwendal. 

And then she found out about the Ruby’s daughter. Born in secret and kept that way, she had spent weeks searching through birth records to find her. It wasn’t hard to track her after that. She followed the Lavorre girl’s trail all the way to Glory Run Road. Tails of a group of travelers calling themselves ‘ _ the Mighty Nein’  _ reached her as she asked. A blue teifling, the Lavorre girl, a purple one, a half-orc, a goblin, a big aasimar, sometimes a firbolg, sometimes not, and two humans. One of them looked like Bren. But a lot of people looked like Bren. Ikathon would have told her. She tried to think nothing of it. 

It was the only tree for miles, and so strange. It didn’t move with the wind, frozen beneath the muffled moonlight. She ran her fingers through the strange leaves. 

She was startled out of her book by a rustling through the leaves. A knife was in her hand, but she didn’t move, just looked up. A ragged looking young woman with dark hair and skin, another with a shock of red hair that made her wince behind her. Astrid nodded in greeting and waited. 

“Sorry,” The one with dark hair said. “Only shelter for miles.” Astrid nodded again, as though giving permission that he didn’t have the authority to. 

The girls settled in, no bed mats or supplies. Dirty, bare feet, nerves running through their hands in shivers. Crystals and beads around their necks and wrists. They looked like her mother in a very vague way, the way that most women did. In a heart wrenching one. 

“I’m Thalia,” the one with red hair said. “This is Theo,” 

“Mira.” She lied, not sure if they believed her and not particularly caring. Their conversation ended there for a while. Astrid pretended to tend to her books while watching them settle against the trunk of the tree. Nervous ones, them. Runaways, most likely. In love, undoubtedly. It was a question of how long, not if. 

Astrid watched as Theo sprouted a flower from her palm, a lily, and threaded it into Thalia’s tangled hair. 

A Druid. Useful. 

“Theo,” Astrid said, making her jump. “You’re a Druid?” She nodded. Astrid could see her tensing to run. “I was hoping to talk to this tree.” She placed her hand on the trunk with false reverence. Theo looked to Thalia, and then back to her. She nodded, uncertainly. 

Astrid stood back a respectful distance as Theo kneeled before the tree. 

“Tell me what you want to ask and I’ll translate. They don’t always answer. We’ve got ten minutes.” She instructed. 

Her prayer was simple, Astrid heard Melora’s name. Soft, green magic circled the tree’s trunk, like liquid floating through the air. She watched, quiet, interested. 

“What do you want to know?” Theo asked. 

“Has the tree seen someone named ‘Lavorre?’” Astrid asked. Theo repeated it back. She listened for several seconds and shook her head. 

“A group called ‘the Mighty Nein?” 

Theo listened longer this time. She nodded. 

“It’s… plants don’t talk exactly like us. Not in proper sentences…” She said, concentrating. 

“I understand. Whatever you can translate.” Astrid interrupted impatiently. 

“It’s… feelings. Love. This tree loves that name. Family.” 

That was… unexpected. 

“Ask it if it’s heard of a Jester, a Fjord, a Yasha-“ She listed the names that she’d been able to collect from witnesses, but Theo interrupted. 

“Oh!” She cried out, as though she’d been shocked. “Oh, that one. The tree knows that one.” 

“Bren Ermendrud.” She chanced, feeling a bit hollow. Theo listened for several heavy seconds before shaking her head. “Caleb Widogast?” Astrid offered. Theo gasped and blushed. “Where are they headed?” She was growing impatient with this. Theo waited for a long moment. 

“He didn’t see,” She said. She looked very, very sad all of a sudden. “His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see.” Thalia stepped forward and placed her hand on Theo’s shoulder, just beginning to shake. This wasn’t helping at all. 

“Which direction?” Astrid not so much asked, but demanded. More like an interrogator than the mask of a friend she’d been wearing. Theo sobbed. 

“East,” She finally managed. “He  _ loves  _ them,” 

“Thank you,” Astrid said without meaning it, moving towards her things. She packed quickly, slung her bag over her shoulder. She took two gold pieces from her bag and tossed them into the dirt. “You didn’t see me, did you?”

Theo cried. Thalia’s eyes were vicious. 

Astrid made her way into the rain. Sleep could wait, she decided. Better to get moving. They were months ahead of her.

She turned back to the tree. It was a hundred feet or so behind her. She saw Theo and Thalia moving beneath it’s branches. The moon shone down it through the clearing clouds, made the leaves dance like flames. How did a tree love someone? What had that tree been before it was a tree? Was it even what it looked like? She was just filling with questions, questions, and no answers. That’s she’d been getting recently. Questions. 

She hated questions without answers. 

She gathered the components in her hands. The spell left her tongue with the same precision it had left Bren’s that night. She built the energy up in her hands. 

Lightning struck the ground five feet shy of her. She jumped back. The spell dissipated. 

She didn’t follow a god. She didn’t disrespect them either. 

The tree was under protection. Astrid loved to play chess with the universe, but it was often less chess and more a high stakes card game that she played blindfolded with a set of dealers who wouldn’t stop squabbling over the rules. They only stopped fighting when they could choose a player to gang up on. Astrid had made it her life long mission to not be that player. 

She started walking again. Her mind kept drifting back to Bren’s eyes. Bright or vacant, they were beautiful. And she missed him. And she hated him. The longer she fixated, the more she convinced herself that Widogast was Ermendrud, the more angry she became. 

How the fuck could anybody love him? After what he’d done… 

She kept walking. Away from Theo and Thalia, away from the strange tree, away. East, towards the sun. A few months ahead meant very little. The empire was only so big. She’d catch them eventually. Worst came to worst, she would take a trip to Nicodranus. The Ruby was always willing to see a member of the Assembly. She didn’t need to know Astrid’s true intentions. Secret or estranged or whatever, Lavorre would come running. Surely her entourage wouldn’t let her come alone. 

The tree had loved them. Loved  _ him _ , whoever this Widogast was. Astrid wondered as she walked if he still looked the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, you can find me on tumblr at gayshitiguess.


End file.
